THE BRIGHTNESS OF SEAWATER
Act I — The Spark The metal piece fit in Ida's palm like a question she couldn't answer. It was heavier than anything made of iron should be—dense, warm to the touch, and marked with lines so precise they might have been cut by a god with very small hands. She had found it in a crate of salvage from a Soviet freighter that had docked at Brooklyn three weeks earlier, traded for by a man who...
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